I’m Marsha Greenman.? ?Oh, I’m terribly sorry, ma’am.? The voice was that of a woman. She was dressed rather mannishly in a chauffeur’s...uniform of black slacks, jacket, and tie with a white shirt. She wore a cap and dark sunglasses and held a small sign that read ?Hamilton.? She was short, little overweight, but her body still had well-defined curves. ?If you will follow me, please, the car is parked out front. Your bags are already loaded.? The couple held hands as the dream. He asked me how I was, if I had a good sleep and other basic chatter that I was not really paying attention to until he said that giving me a ticket would not really teach me anything. That made my ears perk up thinking I would get out of it but he looked at me saying that if I was his daughter he knew what would teach me a lesson more than a ticket. There was an eerie silence between us as I contemplated what he was suggesting and then in a quiet quivering voice I said, are you proposing a. More

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